Quests
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: Some searches are immortal...


All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part...I like being poor, really... 

Questsby Sheryl Martin 

It was hot. Hot, hot, hot. Great description, Dana Scully. She punched the power button on her computer, nearly burning her hand as she turned the monitor off. And the damn air conditioner was off for the entire building and wouldnÕt be fixed for a day or so. Wonderful. 

Draining the glass of iced tea, she wandered into her living room. Wiping her forehead with the bottom of her tshirt, Dana peered out the window. The grey haze hung over the city like a deadly ghost. The television announcer droned the smog alert; warning that strenuous activity should be avoided at all costs... And there was a stupid jogger, panting his way up the street... A stupid jogger called Fox Mulder. She shook her head. CPR did not appeal to her right now... 

He stopped at the corner, leaning forward as his chest heaved to get air to his lungs. Maybe this wasnÕt such a good idea... A red mop of hair appeared at the front of ScullyÕs building; holding a large glass of ice water. Her disapproving look almost make him turn around... 

ÒMulder. You are one of the most stubborn, pigheaded, thick...Ó He nodded, reaching for the water. 

ÒThank you very much, Scully... move out of the way, I think IÕm going to faint...Ó Fox staggered into the apartment, collapsing on the sofa. Wheezing heavily, he watched her walk into the bathroom. A wet face cloth smacked against his bare legs, jolting him with the cold. 

ÒAt least sponge yourself down if you intend to die doing this.Ó Dana rolled her eyes upward as she splashed water on her face. ÒDidnÕt you hear the warning? No strenuous activity?Ó 

ÒHey, this is the only strenuous activity I get these days...Ó His wide grin made her smile. ÒAnd IÕm so easily addicted...Ó He tossed the cloth back at her. ÒNo air conditioner?Ó 

ÒDown for the whole building. And IÕm not going to the office just to do paperwork... not dressed like this.Ó Dana motioned to her tshirt and shorts. He nodded, gesturing at his own shirt and shorts. ÒAnd my computer just might blow up if I do anything more on it today.Ó 

ÒSo, wanna go catch a film? They have air...Ó He wiped his face onto his sleeve. ÒBatman Forever?Ó 

ÒDonÕt you get enough of strange disfigured people trying to kill other people in real life?Ó 

ÒAh, Scully... youÕre such an optimist... We can rent a flick.Ó 

ÒLike what?Ó She dug into her fridge for another bottle of fruit juice. 

ÒMonty Python and The Holy Grail?Ó 

ÒI donÕt think so...Ó Dana struggled with the top of the bottle. ÒIÕm not a big fan... and besides, the Grail was found by Indiana Jones...Ó 

Fox came up beside her. ÒHere...Ó He wrestled with the cap. ÒActually, there were only three knights who ever saw the Grail...Ó His sweaty hands slipped free. ÒYou really want this opened?Ó 

ÒThat or you get water all night.Ó 

ÒRight...Ó He took a firm grasp. ÒGalahad, Lancelot, and Percival... the only three...Ó The twist top moved slightly. 

ÒPercival... the Fool...Ó She smiled, taking it from him. Banging it twice on the counter top, Dana snapped it open. "And his quest brought him to it in the end." 

ÒI loosened it first.Ó Fox grumbled. ÒAnd even fools can be pure of heart enough to find grails.Ó 

ÒI know that to be a fact.Ó Dana passed him a mug full of juice. ÒAnd grails are where you find them...Ó Her eyes met his, soft and deep. 

ÒI get worried when you wax philosophical, Scully... because sometimes you almost make sense...Ó 

ÒShut up and drink... then you can drive me to the mall to get the movies... and youÕre paying for the pizza tonight...Ó 

ÒItÕs not nice to take advantage of fools, Scully...Ó 

ÒLook at it as an investment, Mulder...Ó She grinned. ÒYou get the wisdom of my knowledge.Ó 

ÒAnd you get the pleasure of my company...Ó The edges of his mouth twitched with laughter. ÒA fair trade, I think...Ó 

ÒNow whoÕs the fool...Ó 

*********************"You've become a world-class hopeless romantic.""Not hopeless... hopeful. A world-class hopeful romantic."Joan Wilder -- Romancing The Stone 


End file.
